"K-Katie?"
He's home.
She scrambles towards the voice, fearing the worst, always fearing the worst. She finds him leaning heavily on the kitchen counter, broad shoulders shuddering, his breath ragged. His head lifts; his gaze is lop-sided and dopey thanks to a grotesquely swollen right eye. "God, Dan," she whispers, her hands immediately covering her mouth.
"Is it bad?" Dan says through bloodied lips. "I'm guessing from your reaction, it's bad."
Katie winces,"It's bad." She runs a dish towel under the faucet, starts to daub gently at his face. "Is it over?"
Dan shakes his head. "I'm gonna have to go back. I need another chance."
Go back. The words sit leaden in Katie's stomach. It isn't over. He needs to go back. Go back to God-knows-where doing God-knows-what. The selfish side of her sometimes wishes to switch with Livia, at Dan's side in the past, guiding Dan on his missions and fixing the past to protect the future.
But that's not her place.
Her place is here. Her purpose is as the beacon, the shining light always guiding Dan back. Dan fixes lives, but she fixes Dan, keeps him whole, keeps him sane. She is the hope Dan needs to survive those damn-fool missions. Without her, he is lost.
And so she stays, and she cleans his wounds and finds an icepack for his eye. She will stay. As long as he returns to her, as long as he loves her, Katie will stay.